Adrenaline
by ChicagoChaingang
Summary: Tristen Colden is the newest Superstar to make the WWE Roster. When she catches the eye of both CM Punk and Kane, however, things get complicated. CM Punk/OC/Kane (Is a repost from my other account) I own Tristen.
1. Rush

Tristen Colden wandered the halls of the arena, looking for the person in charge. She was on cloud 9, and had been since she got a call from Triple H.  
She bumped into a tall man with dark hair and many tattoos.  
"Sorry, man. I'm looking for Triple H's office."  
"New Diva? Figures. Although you don't look like a Diva."  
"Um, thanks? I'm Tristen."  
"Phil. You're looking for Triple H's office, right?"  
Tristen nodded.  
"Down the hall to the left. And wear less clothing. You'll get in for sure," Phil Brooks said sarcastically.  
"So how naked did you have to get?", she snapped back before walking away and leaving the Straightedge Superstar speechless.

"Tristen Colden, age 16."  
Hunter looked the young girl over.  
"16? You're a little young to be in this business."  
"Yes sir. But I promise that if you just give me a chance I will not let you down. I'm a dedicated and hard-working person, and I enjoy this," she said as she brushed her pink and black hair out of her eyes and looked up at her second favorite wrestler.  
"You like to fight?"  
"Yeah."  
"I watched your video, Tristen. You can fight and wrestle well. You have no problem with fighting guys?"  
"None."  
Hunter smiled, and Tristen held her breath. Was this it?  
"Welcome to the business, Tristen."  
She jumped up and hugged Hunter, then hastily let go.  
"Oh my goodness I'm so sorry."  
"No big deal. What do we call you in the ring?"  
"Hellaena."

Tristen left the office, smiling hugely. Her life was turning around. Her parents didn't know where she was, and she was free.  
"You look like you got laid."  
"I didn't have to get _that_ naked, Phil. You know, you look really familiar."  
Phil shrugged.  
"Girls say that a lot," he said with a grin.  
"Well, try not to let your big head get in your way while you're walking."

Tristen walked to the Diva's locker room, excited. Her life was getting better.  
She wandered into the locker room and was greeted by the sight of all her favorite Divas.  
"Hi. I'm Tristen and I'm kind of new. I was wondering where Creative is?"  
"You're the new Diva?", asked a girl with blonde hair and a Canadian accent.  
"No. I'm actually a Superstar."  
The girls fell silent. This had never happened before.  
"You seem to be in the wrong room, newbie."  
"Yeah. Superstars go to Creative first," a redheaded Diva said snobbily.  
"Oh. Sorry. I'll just be going."  
"Hey, what's your name? I'm Natalya."  
"Tristen."  
"Nice to meet you, Tristen. Creative Department is down the hall, second door on your left. Can't miss it."  
Tristen grinned.  
"Thanks, Natalya."  
Then she turned to the redhead who had been catty.  
"You may want to watch your back, _Lita_. I may be new, but I won't hesitate to kick your little ass."  
"How do you know my name?"  
"I grew up with the unmasked Kane, honey. And trust me, I supported him more than you. As a matter of fact, I laughed when he chokeslammed Hardy off the stage. You're a whore, sweetheart. The only thing you're good at is lying flat on your back."  
And with silence in the air, Tristen walked out. All the girls started laughing at Lita, and Natalya grinned.  
This is what the WWE needed.

The hallways were way too long, Tristen thought as she strolled down the corridor. Natalya had said that it was hard to miss Creative, but the newest Superstar wasn't so sure.  
She found a door that said Creative Department, and walked into the room.  
"Hi. I'm Tristen, and I'm the newbie. Um, is this where I come up with my gimmick and such?"  
A black and red-haired man nodded. His nametag said Tyler.  
"Do you know what you want to be doing? Like, as a Diva?"  
Tristen smiled.  
"I'm actually a Superstar."  
Everyone froze.  
"Superstar? Not a Diva?"  
"Nope. I'm going to be fighting Evan Bourne for my first match. Actually, I have a few ideas for my gimmick. Would you mind if I shared?"  
"Go ahead."  
"Well, what if I was like CM Punk, but I didn't shove the straightedge thing down everyone's throat? And what if nobody took me seriously?"  
They thought for a moment.  
"I like it. A CM Punk rivalry, with the newest Superstar."  
Tristen grinned.  
"I already have my theme and everything. Get Up by Korn. It matches my personality and it was always my favorite song. I was always saying that to the girls I beat down for messing with me."  
Tyler smirked.  
"Tristen, I think you'll fit in just fine."


	2. Junkie

_Times are looking grim these days  
Holding onto everything  
Its hard to draw the line  
And I'm, I'm hiding in this empty space  
Tortured by my memories of what I've left behind  
Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!  
_Tristen stalked down the ramp, a sinister smirk on her face. She was facing Evan Bourne tonight, the debut of Hellaena. She felt alive with a sudden rush of adrenaline.  
_Some are Born to fight  
Some are Born to sin  
I was born to light the fire  
All that you fear  
Some are Born to fight  
I was Born, I was Born to win!_  
Evan bounced down the ramp, which reminded Tristen slightly of some of the Divas. She shook her head to focus, then smiled at Evan before shaking his hand.  
"Good luck, newbie," he said to her.  
"Thanks, Airbourne," she replied as the bell rang.  
They locked up, Tristen glaring at Evan in mock anger.  
Evan threw a punch that caught her in the temple, causing her to stumble. Tristen regained her balance and charged the older wrestler, catching him with a spear.  
"Sorry Bourne, I gotta win this."  
Tristen put Evan in a sleeper hold, then took it further with a suplex.  
"Sleep in Hell, Evan Bourne," she said after the bell rang. A microphone was just within her reach, and she grabbed it.  
"Hello, Carson City! My name is Hellaena. I'm from Chicago, and I'm here to shake up the business!"  
_Look in my eyes, what do ya see? I'm the cult of personality.  
_"Another Second City Saint, hm?"  
Tristen turned to see CM Punk standing on the ramp with his arms crossed.  
"Not a saint, Punk, but definitely Second City."  
Punk smirked at her as he walked down the ramp, climbed a turnbuckle, and sat on it.  
"So you're the fresh meat that everyone's been talking about. What makes you think you have what it takes?  
Tristen walked to the turnbuckle across from him and perched on it, mimicking the older man.  
"Well Punky, let's see. I just beat Evan Bourne, I was good enough to beat Evan Bourne, and now I know I'm in the WWE."  
Punk laughed.  
"Doesn't take much skill to beat Airbourne, Rookie. Try beating John Cena, then talk to me."  
John Cena's theme began to play as he ran down the ramp, sliding into the ring and throwing his hat to the crowd.  
"How we doing, Carson City?"  
"Good!"  
John smiled at Tristen and laughed.  
"Good! Now I don't know who this lovely, amazing girl is, but I say that she's got skill. That sleeper hold and suplex were genius. So just who are you, new girl?"  
Tristen smirked at John and waved.  
"Hellaena. I'm from Chicago, Illinois."  
"Nice. Second City girl."  
Nodding, she backflipped off the turnbuckle and saluted him.  
"Wait a minute. Are those straightedge crosses on your wrists?"  
"Totally. And I have "Straightedge" tattooed on the back of my neck."  
John looked at Punk with a raised eyebrow.  
"She's just like you, man."  
"Not exactly. I don't shove drug-free down other people's throats. That's his job."  
Punk growled at that statement.  
"I'm trying to save them."  
"From having normal lives? That's funny, Punky. Experimenting is part of life."  
"So Jeff Hardy is just going through a part of life?"  
Tristen charged him and threw him over the ropes.  
"Don't ever insult him again! Jeff Hardy gave his life for the WWE, for these fans. He deserves respect for his career."  
Punk slowly sat up, back on fire from hitting the hard floor.  
"You think he deserves respect? Ha. Just another fangirl, I see," he said climbing into the ring again.  
Tristen nodded.  
"Yeah I'm a Hardy fan. So?"  
Punk shook his head.  
"Sad."  
John came and stood by Tristen, an arm around her shoulders. Punk's eyes narrowed slightly.  
"Don't talk about her like that, Punk. She can believe in who she wants to believe in. Especially if she wants to be a part of the "Chain Gang."  
Tristen laughed at Cena's obvious flirting, not noticing as Punk clenched and unclenched his fists.  
"Nice try, Cena, but I'd rather be part of a "Society" than a gang."  
He perked up at that, lifting his eyes to look at the raven-haired girl.  
"Straightedge Society? There could very well be a spot in there for you, Hellaena."  
Tristen lifted a brow in disbelief.  
"I don't know, Punky. Why should I? You've insulted a favorite of mine, told me I can't wrestle, and yet you want me in your little group."  
John left the ring, obviously wanting to avoid the sudden confrontation.  
Punk stood in front of Tristen, the girl smirking at him.  
"I'll make you a deal, Hellaena. Beat me, and you can walk away."  
"And if I don't? Can you handle having someone like me in your group? I'm kind of brash and outspoken.  
Grinning, Punk lifted off his shirt.  
"So am I. Now how about that match?"  
Smiling seductively, Tristen slowly walked up to the Chicago native.  
"How about not?"  
Then she gripped his hair and gave him his own finisher.  
"Sleep in Hell, Punkyboy."

_Times are looking grim these days  
Holding onto everything  
Its hard to draw the line  
And I'm, I'm hiding in this empty space  
Tortured by my memories of what I've left behind  
Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!  
_The black-haired teen walked up the ramp with a grin.  
"That went well."


	3. High

Tristen sat backstage, thinking over her match. That confrontation with Punk had been one of her favorite moments.  
"Hey, Newbie. What are you doing in my locker room?"  
She looked up to see Randy Orton smiling at her.  
"Oh, shit. Sorry I thought this was an unused locker room. I'll just go."  
Randy cocked his head in confusion.  
"Don't you have a locker room with the rest of the guys?"  
Blushing, she looked down, muttering something that caused the Viper to smirk.  
"Sorry, didn't catch that. What did you say?"  
"I can't change in front of guys. It weirds me out."  
Randy laughed heartily.  
"You're a Superstar, though."  
"Doesn't mean I like changing in front of men that ogle me every chance they get!", Tristen snapped. That shut Randy up.  
"They what?"  
"They're always staring at me. Every time I turn around, someone's checking out my ass or my chest."  
Randy sat down next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.  
"Hey, I didn't know. I thought you would jump at the chance, being a fan and all."  
Tristen looked up at the older man with confused eyes.  
"How'd you know I was a fan?"  
"John practically flirted with you, and you enjoyed it."  
Tristen blushed again.  
"Well, when a good-looking man is complimenting me, I enjoy it."  
"You're pretty."  
Laughing, she slapped him.  
"I said good-looking, Orton. Not you."  
His face fell, and he touched his heart.  
"You wound me, Tristen. Right here."  
"Somehow I know you'll get over it, Viper."

CM Punk listened outside the door, boiling in anger. Damn them for flirting with the newbie. She was new! It wasn't right for them to be flirting with her on the first day.  
His head still hurt from that GTS he had received. But he needed to talk to her. He jumped back, bolting just as Randy opened the door and started laughing.  
"You run like a scared dog, Brooks!"  
Tristen peeked out the door, then started giggling.  
"Oh Punky! Eavesdropping isn't nice."  
Punk barely heard her, but he turned back to look her in the eye.  
"Hellaena, I'm sorry about what I said in the ring. If I hurt your feelings or whatever-"  
"Punky, when you hurt my feelings, I'll let you know, got it? Second City or no, you're still a heel, and we don't have to get along onscreen."  
Punk sighed in relief. He hadn't pushed her away.  
"Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Brooks, I'd like to go grab a bite. I'll see ya around, Randall!"  
"Newbie, don't call me Randall."  
Tristen laughed and walked away.  
"Call me Tristen then!", she shouted back.

Sheamus walked around the hallways aimlessly. He had a match tonight against a new Superstar, but he hadn't quite found him yet.  
"Are you Sheamus?", a soft voice asked.  
The Celtic Warrior turned to see a small girl looking up at him.  
"Yeah, lass. Do you know who the new Superstar is? I'm supposed ta be facing him tonight. Someone named Tristen."  
"Hi. I'm Tristen," the girl said with a grin. Sheamus' eyes grew wide.  
"Yer the new Superstar? But yer a lass."  
Tristen narrowed her eyes.  
"Problem with that? I'm a girl, so you should have no problem beating me."  
Sheamus stepped closer to the black and pink-haired teen.  
"I don't have a problem beating you, sweetheart. I just don't want to hurt such a delicate girl."  
"Trust me, Sheamus. I'm anything but delicate. In fact, be as rough as you want with me."  
Tristen walked off, leaving the Celtic Warrior to think about her innuendo.

CM Punk sat at the commentary desk, waiting for the match to start.  
"So Punk, what do you think of the new Superstar? She seems to be a handful, huh?"  
"You know, I can't really speculate on her just yet. I barely know the girl."  
"She shouldn't be a Superstar, King. Tristen is a girl, therefore she should be a Diva."  
Punk looked over at Michael Cole with a glare.  
"Cole, take your prejudice and shove it. Girls make great Superstars."

_Times are looking grim these days_  
_Holding onto everything_  
_Its hard to draw the line_  
_And I'm, I'm hiding in this empty space_  
_Tortured by my memories of what I've left behind_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!  
_Tristen ran down the ramp and slid into the ring, throwing a fist in the air. Her eyes met Punk's, and she grinned.  
"Hey Punk, what's up?"  
He smiled back at her, and she leaned on the ropes as Sheamus' music began to play.  
The Celtic Warrior climbed over the ropes and stood in the middle of the ring, staring at his opponent.  
How fun this would be!


	4. Warrior

Tristen launched herself at Sheamus, catching him off guard. The spear worked perfectly, and the new Superstar grinned and waited for the Celtic Warrior to stand before hitting him with a left hook.

"Did you see that? Hellaena is disrespecting Sheamus!"

Turning, the black-haired girl flipped off Michael Cole, giving Sheamus the opportunity to deliver a high Brogue Kick to her head.

He went for the pin, but Tristen wasn't about to lose her second match. She just barely kicked out at two, and Sheamus was dumbfounded.

Slowly, Tristen got to her knees and looked up at the Irishman.

"Is that all you got, Sheamus? Ha. I've beaten _girls _who fight better," she said as she quickly hooked her arms around his ankles and pulled. Sheamus fell to the mat, giving Tristen the chance to climb the turnbuckle and deliver a devastating 450 splash. But she wasn't finished yet. She ran to the corner, waiting for her opponent to stand, then speared him to the ground, covering and getting the win.

_Times are looking grim these days  
Holding onto everything  
Its hard to draw the line  
And I'm, I'm hiding in this empty space  
Tortured by my memories of what I've left behind_

_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_

Gesturing for a mic, Tristen stood looking down at the fallen Warrior.  
"Sheamus, Sheamus, Sheamus. You underestimated me simply because I'm a female. Well guess what? This female just made you her bitch!"  
The crowd screamed, and she grinned.  
"If there is anyone in the back who thinks they can beat me, then come out now!"  
Pyros on the ramp exploded as the arena went dark. Then, creepy organ music sounded as Kane's titantron began to play. Punk stood up and slid into the ring, touching Tristen's shoulder as a gesture that he had her back.  
Kane walked down the ramp, just staring at the two in the ring.  
Punk silently moved in front of Tristen, protecting her from the demon.  
"I didn't come out here to pick a fight with you, Punk. I came out, for her!"  
"Me? So this is you accepting my challenge?"  
Slowly, Kane grinned.  
"When and where, Straightedge Princess?"  
Tristen smiled evilly, thinking for a moment.  
"Hell in a Cell. No holds barred, bring your own weapons match. I win, you leave Zack and Eve alone. You win, I'll be your personal slave for six months."  
"Be careful who you play with, Hellaena. The stakes are very high."  
"Don't worry, Kane. I know exactly what I'm doing."


	5. Epiphany

Tristen walked backstage with Punk, only to be greeted by an angry Sheamus.  
"What are ya thinkin', goin' against Kane?"  
"Why do you care? I'm a lass, remember?"  
Sheamus growled.  
"Which is exactly why I want you to let _me_ fight him instead."  
Tristen snorted.  
"You don't think I can beat him."  
"I know you can't beat him. He's a killer, lass."  
"You know what? I can beat him. Without anyone's help. I don't want you or Punk anywhere near the ring during the match!"  
Punk looked at her.  
"Tristen, are you gonna be okay?"  
"I'll be fine, Punky. And so will you."  
Sheamus sighed and looked at the Straightedge Princess.  
"Tristen, this isn't a good idea."  
"I don't give a fuck what you think, Sheamus. Stay away from the damn ring."  
And she walked off with Punk, leaving Sheamus alone to punch a wall.  
Punk taped up Tristen's wrists in white, talking to her about her stipulation.  
"Tristen, I don't think this is going to turn out well."  
"Punky, if you lecture me I'll give you a foot up the ass."  
"I was just going to say that maybe you should talk to Kane. Ask him for a different stipulation."  
"No."  
He looked up at her in disbelief.  
"What?"  
"No! I'm going to do this. And I'm going to beat his sorry ass!"  
Punk chuckled.  
"You are a firecracker, you know that?"  
Tristen blushed and grinned.  
"Wouldn't I be a pipebomb instead?", she said teasingly.  
Punk burst out laughing.  
"Nice one, Tris. Nice one."  
"Tris? Why Tris?"  
"Why Punky?"  
Tristen laughed.  
"Touche, Brooks."  
The Miz walked into the room and froze.  
"Sorry Punk. Didn't know you'd be here. Tristen, we were wondering if you would like to come clubbing with us. Like we do after every show?"  
"Sure, why not? But I'm not drinking."  
"You don't have to."  
She looked at Punk.  
"You coming or what?"  
"Nah. I'm gonna skip this one, guys."  
Mike shrugged.  
"Whatever. Come on, Hellaena!"  
"I'm going!"  
Just before she walked out, Tristen looked at Punk again.  
"I'm gonna miss your company tonight, Brooks. I hope you can come later."  
Then she left.

Punk sat in the locker room, thinking about Tristen Colden. She was pretty, in a rebellious way. High-spirited, Straightedge, and impulsive. He liked that about her.  
He liked everything about her.  
He loved her.  
Punk couldn't love her. They were...  
Destined for each other. Equals.  
But she would be Kane's. Or would she? If he fought hard enough, she wouldn't be. And so that's what he decided to do. Punk would fight for Tristen, and win.  
Or die trying.


	6. Confusion

Kane sat in his locker room, surrounded by darkness. He was thinking about the girl who had stood up to him, treated him as if she were equal to him.  
"Hellaena." The very name sounded like some sort of twisted lullaby from Hell. It echoed against his brain until he rubbed his temples to make it stop.  
How sweet. Capture her, Kane. She can be useful to us.  
He smirked. Of course she can be useful. This would break CM Punk.  
But how would he do it? How could he capture the heart of the Straightedge Princess?

Tristen sat in the Divas' locker room, thinking about Punk. He was a brilliant strategist, in her mind. But he was also an idiot! He wouldn't give up on the damn match stipulation. Seriously, did he not trust her? At all?  
"I wish I could talk to him."  
"Who, Straightedge?"  
Tristen jumped as John Cena revealed himself, laughing about how he'd scared her.  
"Oh, girl you are too easy to scare."  
"You're an ass."  
John laughed harder.  
"Talk to who? Punk? Or Kane?"  
His face twisted when he said Kane. It was no secret that he despised the man.  
"Both. To tell them how stupid this whole thing is."  
Punk walked into the room and saw John and Tristen talking.  
"Well isn't this cozy?"  
John looked at Punk, curiously noting the jealousy in his tone.  
"Hey Punky! Where ya been?"  
"Out. Where have _you_ been?"  
"Here. Thinking about my stipulation."  
"You mean the idiocy that you created? Because that's what the stipulation is!"  
Tristen growled and stood up, going face to face with Punk.  
"You know what? Fuck you! I don't need this shit, Brooks," she said as she ran out of the locker room.  
John stood there, watching the teen retreat, then looked at Punk angrily.  
"You're an asshole."  
Then he walked out, leaving the Chicago native alone.

Tristen ran, going to every locker room until she found who she was looking for.  
"What do you want?"  
"Somebody to tell me that my choices are not idiocy. Somebody to make me feel like I actually matter to them."  
The unknown person smirked and opened the door wider.  
"Come in, Hellaena."


	7. Plans

Tristen sat down on the bench that the man was occupying.  
"It must make you wonder why I'm here. I did disrespect you after all."  
He laughed.  
"Oh, Hellaena. It was the very disrespect you showed me that drew me to you. There is not enough hate in you yet, but soon my Princess, you will be as cruel as I."  
Tristen looked up into his eyes.  
"I, I just came to talk about my stipulation. I don't want to hate anyone."  
He put a hand on her knee.  
"Are you afraid, little Hellaena?", he purred. "Scared that I'll hurt you?"  
"N-no."  
He smiled.  
"Lies. I can feel your fear, Princess."  
She growled and narrowed her eyes, punching him in the stomach.  
"I'm not afraid of you!"  
Tristen made a dash for the door, but was pushed against it and turned to face her captor.  
"Bad idea," he growled. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, smirking at the sudden yelp she gave.  
"Don't hurt me. I was just scared. I'm sorry."  
Gently, he brushed her hair out of her eyes. Tristen felt a tear slide down her cheek.  
"Don't hurt me."  
"Admit you're afraid, Hellaena. Admit your fear, and I will let you go back to your precious Punk."  
Tristen snarled.  
"Punk is nothing to me!"  
He knew that would work to his advantage. Her anger was unbridled and strong, which made her useful.  
"Join me. Together we can take down everyone standing in our way. Including Punk."  
Smirking, Tristen nodded.  
"I'll do it. But we have to make him hurt. Break his fragile little heart."  
"How?"  
Biting her lip, she lowered her eyes for a moment before pushing off the wall and crashing her lips to his. He growled before returning the kiss, letting it go on for a minute before they both broke away, panting.  
"It's a deal, Princess."  
Tristen grinned up at him.  
"I knew you'd see it my way, Kane. And just for future reference, call me Tristen."


	8. Stubborn

Punk watched the match from his room. Tristen was making progress, but not by talking to him. The Hell in a Cell match was next Friday, and he couldn't watch her lose.  
"I can't lose her."  
"Lose who?"  
"Tristen. You gotta help me, Zack."  
"Against Kane? Punk, I love Tristen like a sister. But she made this match, and she's gotta fight it."  
Punk snarled and looked at Zack angrily.  
"She's got no chance! Damn it!"  
"Who's got no chance?"  
John was met with two sets of eyes, one angry, the other puzzled.  
"He's freaking out because Tristen has that match with Kane next week. Tell  
him she'll be fine."  
John Cena laughed.  
"Against Kane? Ha. That girl will have to fight dirty in order to stay alive."  
"Not helping!"  
Tristen walked in.  
"What's not helping?"  
Punk bolted to the small girl, picking her up in a hug.  
"Tris, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to call you an idiot. Where did you go?"  
"To Kane. I talked to him about my stipulation."  
"And?"  
"I'm fucking stuck! He's a stubborn ass."  
Punk growled and hit the wall with his hand.  
"I'll talk to him."  
"I highly doubt he'll listen to you, Punk."  
"What other options do we have, Tristen?"  
She looked at him with fire blazing in her eyes.  
"I fight the bastard, kick his ass, and laugh about it over a soda!"  
"No. I'm not going to let you fight him."  
"You're not my dad! I'm doing this match, Brooks. No questions."  
"Can't you see that it's a mistake? Listen to me, Tris. You. Will. Die!"  
"Wake up, Punk! I'm not going to listen, so why do you keep trying?"  
"Because I love you!"  
Everyone froze and looked at Phil.  
"What?"  
He sighed and ran a hand over his face.  
"I love you, Colden. Have since I met you."  
Tristen backed away, shaking her head.  
"No. Why? Why didn't you tell me before I... Before I went and... Damn you, Punk!"  
John looked at her worriedly.  
"What? What did you do?"  
Tristen looked at him, scared.  
"I can't tell you, John."  
Punk grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.  
"What. Did. You. Do?"  
"I made a deal!"  
The room went silent.  
"I made a deal with Kane. Okay? I was angry at you, and mad at my situation, so I made a deal."  
Zack folded his arms.  
"What deal, Broskette?"  
"I've already said too much," she whispered. "I just hope that you can forgive me, Punky."  
"For what?"  
But Tristen had run out of the room, tears streaming down her face.

Kane watched her cry, slumped against the wall in the hallway like some sort of pathetic lump.  
She was weak. Not strong like he'd originally thought.  
He would fix that, however.  
"Stand up."  
She stood, avoiding his eyes and shrinking into herself.  
"I'm sorry. I can't do it, Kane. I can't."  
He tilted her chin up, staring her in the eyes.  
"You can. You _will_ do it, Hellaena."  
"I can't! Not after he told me he loves me!"  
Kane growled and pushed her away.  
"Pathetic. He doesn't love you, my dear. I know he doesn't."  
"How? Because you're the Big Red Monster and you know everything? Newsflash, Kane: You know nothing! You're just another wrestler who thinks he can intimidate people."  
He smirked at her.  
"I intimidated you," he growled.  
"That was a mistake and will not happen again."  
"I think it will, my Princess."  
Tristen spat at him in anger, then turned to walk away.  
"Bad idea, little girl."  
Tristen found herself slammed against the wall with enough force to knock her out.  
"You will do what I say, Tristen. Or I'll be forced to take _other measures_."  
Those were her last memories as she slipped into darkness.


	9. Pain

Tristen woke up to see a pair of hazel eyes staring down at her.  
"Tris? What happened?"  
"Kane...Wall...Headache."  
Then she lost consciousness again.

Punk growled at the wound on the back of Tristen's head. She'd have a bump there for sure. He now wanted to murder Kane for what he'd done.  
He carried Tristen to his locker room, placing an ice pack beneath her head.  
"Hey Broski, what's up?"  
Punk turned to glare at Zack Ryder angrily.  
"Still think that she can fight Kane? Huh?"  
Zack peeked around the Straightedge Superstar, then gulped.  
"Kane did that?"  
"No, Zack, I'm lying. What do you think?", Punk hissed.  
"Sorry, bro. She okay?"  
"I don't know, Ryder. I really don't know."  
The Long Island native sat down and watched the small girl. Why had Kane done something so horrible?

Tristen woke up to the sound of voices surrounding her. She wanted them to go away so she could sleep.  
"Guys, shut up! Sleep is good!"  
She saw Punk look down at her in relief.  
"I thought he'd killed ya, Tris. God, I'm glad you're okay."  
"Thanks, Punky. Now can ya do me a favor and _shut up_?"  
Phil laughed.  
"Glad to see that bump hasn't damaged your attitude, Rebel."  
"As if anything could, Brooks."  
Zack laughed.  
"Yep, she's back."

Kane punched the wall in anger. He'd lost his little helper, all because he couldn't control himself.  
But it was her fault, Kane. She said that she wanted out, and nobody can get out once they're with you.  
"How can I make her like me again?"  
Remind her why Punk is the bad guy. Remind her that she came to you.  
Kane opened his eyes, breathing erratically.  
"She came to me."


	10. Betrayal

Today was the day. Tonight, Tristen would have her Hell in a Cell with Kane, and she was more than ready. She looked over at her roommates, who had taken to watching her every move.  
"Hey, Zack. How are ya?"  
Zack grinned.  
"I'm cool, Broskette. You ready for tonight?"  
"Oh Hell yeah. I can't wait to kick Kane's ass."  
"Be careful out there, Mini-me. It's a Bring Your Own Weapons match."  
Tristen turned and rolled her eyes at him.  
"I made the damn match, Brooks. I'm fully aware of the stipulations!""What are you taking, Broskette?"  
"Brass knuckles, bitch! I'm gonna kick ass!"  
Punk laughed.  
"I'll bet ya are, Tris."  
"Hey guess what?"  
"What?"  
Tristen leaned over, so close to Punk that he thought she was going to kiss him.  
"I get the shower first!", she screamed, causing Punk to fall over, clutching his ears.  
Zack rolled on the bed in laughter as Tristen grabbed her suitcase and darted into the bathroom.  
"Damn, Punk. She's a crafty little thing, isn't she?"  
Punk glared at the closed door, then smiled.  
"That she is, Zack. That she is."  
Tristen laid her head against the door as she heard their conversation. They had no idea that her craftiness was going to end up costing her everything.

Punk, Zack, and Tristen walked through the halls, talking excitedly.  
"Damn it I can't wait! It needs to be time!"  
Zack laughed.  
"Don't get too excited, Broskette."  
"I can't help it! Hey I gotta go check the match card. Catch y'all later?"  
Punk frowned.  
"Tristen."  
"What?"  
He shook his head.  
"Nothing. Have fun in your match."  
Tristen skipped away, leaving the two men alone.

She soon found herself pulled into a dark room with a hand placed over her mouth.  
"Don't struggle."  
She didn't listen, but kicked Kane's ankle, causing him to let her go.  
Turning, she slapped him with all the force she could muster.  
"Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you can just throw me against a wall, _threaten me_, and then drag me in here without getting hurt?"  
Kane did something then, something that shocked Tristen immensely.  
"I'm sorry about that. I never wanted to hurt you."  
Tristen stepped back, not sure what he was doing. Kane looked almost, hurt at the action.  
"I understand your fear, but I promise not to hurt you anymore. It wasn't my intention to hurt you, Tristen."  
"What the hell are you playing, Kane? What mind games are you trying to pull?"  
"None. I just, I want to apologize for what I did."  
Well this was a change.  
"Why?"  
"Because I care about you," he said quietly. Almost too quiet for her to hear.  
Tristen smiled slightly.  
"You do? Really?"  
Kane looked up at the change of voice.  
"Yes. I've realized that hurting you wouldn't make you care about me."  
She walked to him, hugging him around the waist.  
"I care about you too, Kane. I don't know why, because of all the shit you've done, but I do care."  
Kane smiled.  
"I know I can't take back what I did, but I pray you forgive me."  
"I do."  
"Thank you. Now let's go out there and have a good match," he said as his grin turned evil.  
Tristen gulped.  
"Damn. I feel like I'm gonna die."  
"Don't worry. Mark kills everyone. I just scare the shit out of them."

It was time. A hush fell over the locker room as Tristen sat down and tied her black, silver-starred boots. She was ready to prove herself to everyone.  
"Hey Baby Straightedge!"  
"What, Randy?"  
Randy smirked.  
"Be careful out there, alright? I don't wanna have to carry your ass outta that cage."  
Tristen grinned, slipping on her black brass knuckles.  
"Don't worry about me, Snakeboy. I can handle this!"  
John walked up and slapped her on the back.  
"Stay loose, hit low, and land Sleep in Hell. He's a sneaky bastard, Colden."  
"Thanks, Johnny boy!"

Kane sat in his locker room, breathing slowly. It was time.  
He grabbed the chain by his feet and slung it over his shoulder.  
"Little Brother."  
"What, Mark?"  
He turned to meet his brother's green eyes, which were filled with a warning.  
"Don't hurt her too badly, alright? She's a cute little thing."  
Kane grinned.  
"I'm not gonna hurt her that badly, Mark. Just enough to make it look good."

_Times are looking grim these days  
Holding onto everything  
Its hard to draw the line  
And I'm, I'm hiding in this empty space  
Tortured by my memories of what I've left behind  
Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!_  
_Shut the fuck up! Get up!  
_"And now, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 115 pounds, Hellaena!"  
Tristen stalked down to the ring, which was presided over by the deadly steel cage.  
She looked up, smirked at the cage, and climbed into the ring.

_The wonder of the world is gone I know for sure  
All the wonder that I want I found in her  
As the whole becomes a part I strike to burn_  
_And no flame returns_  
_Every intuition fails to find it's way_  
_One more table turned around I'm back again_  
_Finding I'm more lost and found when she's not around_  
_When she's not around I feel it coming down  
_"And her opponent, weighing in at 323 pounds, Kane!"  
Kane walked slowly to the ring, a snarl on his face as he grabbed a microphone from a terrified technician.  
He gave a sadistic grin as Tristen glared.  
"There is still time to change your mind, little Hellaena. You can back out now, with no consequences."  
Tristen brought the mic to her lips.  
"I may be new, but I don't back out. Let's get the damn thing done."  
The cage was lowered, the bell rang, and Tristen slipped on her brass knuckles, immediately jumping onto the turnbuckle and trying for a 450. Kane caught her in midair and slammed her to the mat.  
Tristen arched her back in pain, and Kane grinned savagely.  
Slowly, the girl got up and baseball-slid into his legs, causing him to fall and allowing her to get a few shots in with her weapon.  
Kane shoved the small girl off and quickly wrapped the chain around her throat.  
"Time to lose, Hellaena."  
Tristen pulled frantically, trying to find some give in the steel cobra crushing her throat. Finally, she drove an elbow into his ribs and rolled away, grabbing a steel chair that someone had placed inside the cage and driving it into his stomach.  
Kane went down and Tristen climbed to the top of the cage. She looked down at Kane.  
Oh come on! You know you can't resist a good GTS.  
Tristen grinned and jumped down, landing beside Kane neatly. "Naptime!", she screamed, pointing toward the ground. Then she pulled Kane up, gripped his head, and gave him Punk's signature move. With that, Kane was knocked out enough to be pinned.  
"1, 2, 3!", the crowd cheered. Tristen stood over Kane's body as they raised the cage.  
Punk's music sounded, and he ran out to the ring, sliding in and kissing Tristen hard.  
"You did it! You beat Kane!"  
The Big Red Monster sat up, infuriated at Punk's kiss with _his_ girl. He stalked over, grabbing the man's throat.  
"Don't you touch her!"  
Punk looked at Tristen for help, but she simply smirked.  
"Sorry, Punky. I hope Hell is a nice place, because that's where you'll be sleeping!"  
Then she looked at Kane and nodded. He chokeslammed Punk through the mat, then pulled Tristen close and kissed her in the middle of the ring.  
They had pulled off the ultimate betrayal.


	11. Loss

Punk laid in the middle of the ring, thinking about Tristen's betrayal. She was with Kane now?  
I'm sorry Punky.  
Her words made sense now. She'd gone to make an alliance with Kane.  
"I thought she wanted me."

Tristen walked backstage to see the faces of her friends looking at her with disappointment. John, Zack, even Randy.  
Her heart broke.  
"Guys, let me explain."  
"Why would you do something like this, Tristen? He loves you!"  
She looked at John, who was furious.  
"John, please. I fell in love with Kane!"  
"Broskette, you hurt him."  
"I know. But Zack, I never meant to."  
"We can't trust you, Rebel. Not anymore."  
"Randy, come on!"  
They all shook their heads and walked away.  
Tristen began to cry. She hadn't meant to lose them all.  
Kane walked backstage and saw her crying.  
"They aren't worth it."  
"They're my friends, Kane."  
He snorted.  
"Obviously not, Tristen. Just forget them. We are better then they are."  
She looked up at him.  
"I can't just forget them. I have to apologize."  
"For showing Punk who you really love? For making that match believable? For being you?"  
His logic made sense. As much as it killed Tristen to admit it, he made sense.  
But she still felt a sense of loss and anger at herself. She'd cost herself the only real friends, the only people that had accepted her here. All for what? The chance to get revenge on Punk for not believing in her? To show him that she _could_ fight just as well as him?  
"Penny for your thoughts."  
"Just wondering if this was worth it."  
"You're having second thoughts?"  
"No, no. I'm just wondering if losing my friends was worth it."


	12. Happy?

Tristen wandered through the halls, trying to find the room she wanted.  
"It's gotta be here!"  
"Whatcha looking for?"  
Tristen jumped at hearing the girl's voice.  
"Natalya! Hey do ya know where CM Punk's room is?"  
The blonde studied the other girl thoughtfully.  
"Why should I tell you? You'll only hurt him again."  
"Nat, I didn't mean to! Please. I need to apologize and explain myself to him."  
Natalya sighed.  
"Room 481. Good luck, Tristen."

Punk sat on the edge of the bed, replaying the exact moment of his best friend's betrayal.  
"Why? Why would you do this to me? I loved you!", he screamed into the empty room, attacking the wall with punches that would no doubt leave holes. "I loved you!"  
His anger temporarily subdued, he decided that sleep would be a good end to the crappy night. But someone had other ideas as they knocked on his door.  
"Hang on!"  
He opened the door and immediately growled.  
"What the hell do you want?"  
Tristen looked into his eyes, and couldn't do it. She couldn't tell him she was sorry, couldn't give him an explanation.  
So she turned to walk away, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.  
"Tristen."  
She turned back and saw the hurt in his eyes. She caused that!  
"Punky I'm sorry! Please don't hate me. I can't handle it if you hate me."  
Punk looked at her with hurt and angry eyes.  
"I loved you, Straightedge. I loved you, and we could have been happy. But you had to betray me for Kane, of all people. What does he have? What does he have that I don't?"  
"I don't know! Punk, please. Please don't leave me like Randy, John, and Zack. You're my best friend. I need you!"  
He shook his head.  
"You don't need me, Straightedge. It's fucking obvious you don't."  
Tristen shook her head.  
"No. No Punk, please don't do this!"  
He went to shut the door, but she forced herself onto him, kissing him softly.  
"I love you, Punky," she whispered as tears fell down her face. "I love you too damn much to lose you."  
Punk kissed her back, pulling her into the room and kicking the door shut.  
"Then be with me, Tris. Dump him and be with me."  
"I can't! I love him too, Phil. I love him and I love you."  
Punk did something he would regret in the morning.  
"At least give me a memory of you before I have to say goodbye forever."  
Tristen bit her lip, then nodded. He pushed her onto her back, then stripped off his shirt. She turned out the light, and all was lost to the darkness.

Kane knew something was wrong with his girlfriend. She was skittish around him, more jumpy than usual.  
"Princess?"  
Tristen jolted, then gave him a smile.  
"Yeah babe?"  
"Is something wrong? You seem more agitated than usual."  
"I'm fine. Just tired."  
He studied her face, trying to see if she was telling the truth. Tristen held his gaze until he dropped it.  
"Try and get some more sleep, Princess. We'll be there in two hours."  
"Kay. Babe?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I love you. You know that, right?"  
Kane smiled.  
"I love you too, baby girl."  
Tristen slept, guilt eating her insides. She knew that Kane would eventually find out the truth, but she prayed it wouldn't be for a while.


	13. Jez

Jezebel watched her brother interact with his girl. Something was off about Tristen Colden, and little sister had a feeling it had to do with that Straightedge guy, Punk.  
"Hey Big Brother!"  
Kane turned and smiled at his younger sister, as did Tristen. Jez simply stared at the black-haired girl.  
"What's up, Spitfire?"  
"Can I borrow Tristen for a moment, pleeeeaaaassseeee? Girl talk."  
Tristen looked up at her boyfriend with a fake grin.  
"Unless ya wanna be a part of girl talk?"  
Kane shuddered, then pushed Tristen toward his sister.  
"No thank you."  
Jez grabbed her wrist and pulled her into an empty locker room, all bubbliness gone as she shoved the girl against the wall and pinned her there.  
"Alright, I know you did something behind my brother's back with Punk, you lying little bitch, and little sister don't take too kindly to betrayals of the family."  
Tristen struggled against the hand on her arm.  
"I didn't do anything!"  
"Liar. Tell me what happened before I beat the answer out of you," Jez snarled.  
"Nothing happened! Let me go!"  
The redhead bent her captive's arm a little more, eliciting a whine of pain.  
"Alright! I screwed Punk the other night! But I didn't mean to, Jez. I love your brother dearly."  
Jez growled and released her arm, then attacked her.  
"I'll kill you!"  
Mark and Kane came in as she started to beat Tristen.  
"Jezebel!"  
Mark grabbed Jez and Kane grabbed Tristen, pulling them apart.  
"What the hell?"  
"Tell him, you slut! Tell my brother what you did with Punk!"  
Kane released Tristen.  
"What's she talking about, Princess?"  
Tristen bowed her head.  
"I'm sorry, Boo."  
"What did you do, Tristen?"  
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.  
"I slept with Punk last week."  
Mark let Jez go, and the redhead stood with her arms crossed.  
"I'm sorry, Glenny. I knew for three days. I figured it out when I watched her interact with you and Punk."  
Kane growled and hit the wall, then turned to snarl at Tristen.  
"Get away from me. I'm done with you."  
"Boo?"  
"Don't. Call. Me. BOO!"  
Tristen ran out of the room and Jez hugged her brother.  
"I'm sorry, Glenn."  
He broke down and cried.  
"I loved her, Jez. Now what do I do?"


	14. Forgive

Punk sat in the locker room, head down. He noticed that his girlfriend seemed sadder than usual.  
"Hey Babe."  
"Princess. Hey are you okay? You seem like you're upset about your breakup with the freak."  
Tristen glared at Punk.  
"Why would I be upset? I chose you."  
"I just- You seemed like you really loved him, Tris."  
She snarled and pinned him against the wall.  
"He was a mistake! One I will never make again. I'm done talking about this, understand?"  
"Yeah. Yeah I understand."  
She let him go, then kissed him.  
"I love ya, Punky."  
"Love you, Princess."  
Tristen closed her eyes and tried not to imagine Kane saying the exact same thing as a tear slowly trickled down her cheek, unseen.

Kane stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself. He knew it was a bad idea to get involved with a girl. It always ended badly.  
"I'm not good enough for anyone."  
"You and I both know that ain't true."  
He turned to see Lita standing in the doorway.  
"Amy."  
"Hey Glenn. I heard about the little kid breaking your heart."  
"She wasn't a little kid."  
"She's sixteen, Glenn! How in the hell is that not a little kid, considering your age?"  
He snarled.  
"I loved her!"  
"I know you loved her. But she wasn't smart enough to see that she had an amazing man right in front of her. Glenn, it's not gonna matter if you loved her or not, because she obviously doesn't love you."  
"Don't you think I know that? I've been through it enough times, Amy."  
Lita looked down. She remembered their disastrous storyline.  
"I'm sorry. Just, maybe try and talk to her about why she did what she did, yeah?"  
Kane sighed.  
"I guess. But what if she lies to me again?"  
"Then it's your decision."

Tristen walked through the halls, trying not to let anyone see her cry. She still had a reputation to protect.  
She was so busy looking down that she didn't see the man she bumped into. Slowly, she brought her face up to see...  
Her ex.  
He stared down at her, looking at the tears running down her face. The air was still. Slowly, he brought a thumb up to wipe the mascara from her cheeks, but she turned her head away.  
"Don't. I don't want your pity, Kane! I want you to yell at me, tell me you hate me."  
"What good would that do either of us?"  
"It would make it easier not to love you the way I do. To be with Punk."  
"Is that what you really want?"  
"I don't know. I don't know what I want anymore, Kane. All I know is that my heart keeps telling me one thing, but my head tells me that it won't work."  
He watched her break down, falling to his knees beside her.  
"Tris, look at me."  
Tristen shook her head.  
Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed her chin and turned her to face him.  
"You made your choice. I didn't."  
"But my choice was wrong!"  
"That's too bad. You have to deal with it."  
She wrapped her arms around him.  
"I want you. Not him."  
"I don't know if I can trust you, Princess. I'm sorry."  
"I'll do anything, Kane. Please."  
Kane stood up, lifting her to her feet and looking her in the eyes.  
"Tell him you pick me at WrestleMania."  
"But I-"  
"You said you'd do anything."  
She looked down, nodding.  
"I'll do it. I swear."  
He grinned.  
"Swearing isn't good."  
Tristen smiled.  
"I missed that."  
"Bet you did."


	15. Choice

Tristen leaned on the ropes, waiting for Punk to stop talking. She needed to do this now, before she lost her nerve, and Kane.  
"Well Princess, you look like you got something to say. Any remarks?", Punk asked with a smirk.  
She sighed and climbed out of the ring.  
"Yeah. Just one thing, baby."  
"And what would that be?"  
"I'm done with you," Tristen spat, dropping the mic and walking backstage.  
Punk stood there, frozen. Then he snarled and bolted out of the ring, following her.

Backstage, Tristen searched for Kane. She needed to hug him, and now.  
"What was that?"  
"That was me dumping your manipulative carcass. I'm done with you, Punk."  
He grabbed her arm and spun her around, snarling.  
"You're done with me?"  
"Yes! I can't stand you manipulating me, Punk. So I'm done."  
"Who are you gonna run to? Kane? What makes you think he'll take you back?"  
Kane stepped out from the locker room, a glare on his face.  
"Because she's in love with me. And I love her."  
Punk glared up at the man, then turned his glare to the girl standing beside him.  
"I hope you're happy. I hope it was worth losing me."  
"Strangely enough Punk, it is. I don't need you to love me as long as Kane is right here."  
Kane smiled and kissed her head, and Punk's eyes watered. He'd lost his Straightedge Princess.  
"Tristen."  
"What?"  
"I hope that you are happy with him. And I hope he treats you like the angel you are."  
Those were the last words Phil Brooks said to Tristen Colden, and six weeks later, he was found in his hotel room with a bottle of pills next to his hand.

Three months later, Tristen sat on the porch, watching the sun set.  
"Penny for your thoughts, Princess."  
"Just wondering if a family would be a good idea right now, Boo. We're always on the road."  
Kane sat down and pulled his wife closer.  
"Tristen, if you want a family, I can give you one."  
"But what about our job? Can we raise a little girl on the road with a bunch of people?"  
He tilted her chin up.  
"Little girl?"  
"I'm pregnant, Kane. I just found out."  
Kane's face broke out into a grin. He kissed Tristen softly, looking into her eyes.  
"It's a girl. We're having a little girl."  
"Yeah. And she's gonna come to you with all of her boy problems, Big Daddy."  
"Well, Little Mama, I suppose that a question is in order."  
Tristen looked up at him in confusion.  
"Will you marry me, Princess?"


	16. Goodbye

Tristen drove through the rainy November night, blinking back tears as she pulled up to the empty graveyard. It had been three years since Punk had taken his own life because of her. Three years of guilt and blaming herself for causing his death. Of pretending to listen to her husband when he told her that she wasn't the cause of it all. But Tristen knew better. Her choosing Kane over Punk had driven the Straightedge Superstar to suicide, and she hated herself for it.  
She slowly walked to the grave that held what was left of her former best friend, sitting crosslegged just like he used to.  
"Hey Punky. It's been a while, I know. But I couldn't bring myself to come visit sooner. It still hurts."  
Met with silence, Tristen bowed her head and let her tears fall to the dirt.  
"I'm sorry for doing this to you. It's all my fault. I still wish things had been different, that we could've ended better. Maybe then I'd still have my best friend."  
A gust of wind blew her hair and she looked around, half-expecting to see Punk standing there with that same no-fear grin on his face.  
But there was nothing. Only the rain and the blackness of the night sky.  
Something inside of Tristen snapped and she clawed the ground, screaming incoherently and pounding her fists against the gravestone.  
"I'm sorry! What more do you want me to say, Phil? What more can I do?"  
"Tristen."  
She looked up, her eyes widening as the ghost of Phil Brooks stood next to her, smiling.  
"Hey, Princess."  
"Ph-Phil?"  
"Yeah. I'm surprised you came to visit."  
Tristen wrapped her arms around him, crying hard when she found that she couldn't feel him.  
"I'm so sorry."  
"Don't blame yourself. This was my fault for not being able to handle it."  
She wiped her eyes.  
"You have a niece, Phil."  
"I know. Named Ember. She's cute, Tristen. Looks just like you."  
Tristen nodded.  
"I still wonder though, whether you're her dad or not. You were my first."  
"Yeah I know, Princess. But it's not possible. If I were, she woulda come along way sooner."  
"I know."  
Phil sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  
"Time for me to go, Straightedge."  
Tristen looked up at him with tears in her eyes.  
"Please don't leave me. You're my best friend, Punk. I need you."  
"I'm sorry, baby."  
She kissed him, trying to hang on to what was left of him before she was forced to let him go.  
Punk pulled away and she could see that he was teary-eyed as well.  
"I'm always here, Tristen."  
She blinked and he was gone. Their goodbye was over. He wouldn't come back.


End file.
